His deep tones licked through her, like fire racing across a thatched roof. She turned in Blane’s direction. With the sun behind her, she was able to make out the dark, slightly long hair, his wide shoulders and the line of his mouth. Her mind filled in the rest for her. She’d touched every part of him so intimately that she knew his features by heart.
“Aye.” Ceana tried not to sigh.
Blane took the sheet from her, folded it and placed it down. “Do ye want me to go after her?”
She shook her head. “I’ll no’ drag her back again. ‘Twill only make her hate me more.”
“I dinnae think she hates ye.”
“She does.”
“Why try to protect ye then? She’s quite fierce when it comes to her big sister.”
“Pray tell me she hasnae said something to ye?”
He chuckled. “Nay, but the cold looks and stares are enough.” A warm arm came about her shoulders. “Dinnae worry about her. She’s no’ daft. She’s just trying to find her place in the world.”
Ceana peered up at him. “Ye speak as though ye know from experience. Do ye have sisters?”
In their time together, Blane had spoken little on his family, save that he had no wife or children awaiting him. She hadn’t asked for fear of finding herself falling further into his thrall. It was easier to think of him as a nomad warrior than a warm, caring man with a family who might be missing him.
“Nay.” His voice was slightly hollow.
The temptation to ask more, to let herself fall a little deeper into his world burned bright, but the stiffening of his body beside her warned her not to follow that treacherous path. Blane Ross was a man with secrets and who knew what she could unlock if she delved deeper.
“I’d better finish these,” she murmured, unwilling to draw herself from the warm protection of his arm.
“Aye, but first...”
Blane turned her in his hold. A rough fingertip came to her chin. It traced along the ridge of her jaw, to her ear and back again. She drew in a shaky breath and peered up at him. Ceana had no way of being certain but the thick, swirling sensation in her belly told her his gaze was upon her, deep and intense. If she could see his eyes clearly, would she understand this man better?
Either way, that imprint of sensation from that finger lingered on her skin so strong that it left her unable to deny the effect he had upon her. This was growing more powerful than a mere need for the touch of a man. This was eating into her very soul. When he left, she suspected he’d leave behind a tiny wound. A wound that would likely scar forever.
It mattered not, however. For she had lived with scars for a lifetime. Those small, insignificant ones that reminded her of her inability to live fully. Those tiny knocks and scrapes she received every day that told her of her limitations. But with Blane those boundaries vanished. He made her feel more alive and free than anyone had ever managed. Even her husband.
The thought frightened her for a moment. Danny had been good and kind and sympathetic. But she didn’t want sympathy. Blane didn’t treat her as someone to be pitied. He treated her like a flesh and blood woman with real needs.
An icy trail of fear trickled through her. These thoughts were dangerous. She shouldn’t be comparing him to her husband.
The finger trailing across her lips soon vanquished the fear, replacing it with simmering tension that coiled in and around her, like a tangled web. It confused and drew her in, aye, but it also cocooned and protected her. Ceana parted her lips when the roughened tip touched the crease of her mouth.
On instinct, she darted her tongue out and tasted the salty tip of his finger. A rumbling groan reached her ears and the web tightened, leaving her trembling with anticipation. Blane hooked his hand around her chin and pressed a thumb into her mouth. She circled it with her tongue and sucked lightly. He groaned again.
A hand came to the base of her spine. He drew her close. “What do ye do to me, wildling?” he asked as he brought his face to her ear. His hot breath tickled the shell and she shivered while fingers of anticipation gripped her.
Ceana couldn’t respond, even when he removed his thumb from her mouth to press his hand into her hair and cradle her head. He urged her to look up at him and she saw his dark brows in two deep slashes, shadowing eyes that she pictured as green. Her mouth grew dry under that intense stare. She didn’t need full sight to know he looked at her as she was likely looking back.
“Why have I never heard of ye?”
She frowned. “What?”
“There should be tales of yer beauty. Why have I never heard them?”
A tiny laugh escaped her but it vanished in a puff. Her husband had called her beautiful but she paid little attention to the words. A man in love always thought a woman beautiful. She’d seen enough of her features to know she was no ugly hag but beautiful enough for tales to travel of her? Nay.
But Blane wasn’t in love with her. So what was the reason behind these honeyed words?
“I think if there were, I would sorely disappoint.”
“Nay, ye wouldnae.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “Though I cannae claim to be saddened that ye have been kept a secret. Yer like a treasure, tucked away in these mountains.”
Her heart swelled. Emotion flared. She ached for more sweet words, or his kiss, or his touch. Ceana couldnae say which. Mayhap only Blane knew what she needed next.
He leaned in, his breath whispering across her face and stirring the emotions inside her. “Hidden away for me,” he murmured before putting his lips to hers.
Hot bursts of need ran through her. She softened into him, their bodies moulding. Hard against soft. Blane bundled her closer until her breasts were crushed to his chest. And still it did not seem close enough. Thoughts of flesh on flesh, of him hard inside her tumbled through her mind.
He coaxed her mouth open with his tongue and tasted the recesses of her mouth. Then he eased the kiss so as to taste the corner of her lips, to tease her.
“Ceana.”
The word, so soft and tender for a man like Blane whirled deep inside her. Aye, she wanted to say. I’m yer Ceana. Do as ye will.
Instead, she offered her body up to him, parting her lips once more and gripping the back of his neck so that she was entirely open and vulnerable to him. She might not be able to say these words—words that would do nothing but wound them both when he left—but she could give him her body. He didn’t need to know her mind and her soul were slowly following.
Didn’t need to know she was so close to falling off the precipice on which he had her so precariously balanced. Ceana knew without doubt it wouldn’t take much. A few more sennights of his company, mayhap even some more misunderstandings. An argument, a heated kiss, a chivalrous action. Any of them could have her tumbling to her doom.
And falling in love with him.
Blane tasted wild and warm, exciting and secure. He offered her all she needed—protection and anticipation. His tongue met hers, over and over. A ribbon of wind sifted through her hair and she tightened her grip on him, felt the flex of his muscles against her. His arms held her secure, his body acted like a cradle to hers. Here she could forget her concerns for Kate, her worries for her people. Here only the two of them existed.
A faint growl reached her ears. Ceana’s body responded, tingles ran from head to toe. She curled those very toes into her leather shoes and moved her hands over the planes of his face to press her finger through his thick, silky hair.
“Ceana!” A woman’s voice ripped through the haze.
They tore apart. Guilt flooded through her. What had she been thinking, kissing him in full view of everyone? She cleared her throat and faced the maid. It took her a moment to establish who it was. When the maids wore their wimples, she struggled to tell them apart. She recognised the height of her and the curve of her figure.
“Bridget, is all well?”
“Nay, milady,” she huffed, sounding as though she’d been running. “Sassenachs. Spotted not far from here, just over t
he ridge. One of the lads was out herding the sheep when he saw them.”
Blood drained from her face, leaving her feeling as though she’d been dunked into the loch. She instinctively reached for Blane and he clasped her hand tight. The coarse warmth of his palm eased the cold inside but only a little. Particularly when she heard his low curse.
“Do we know how many?”
“A handful. Jamie cannae count but he said no more than two hands.”
Blane cursed again. “They have horses?” he demanded.
“Aye,” Bridget confirmed. “As many horses as men.”
Ceana’s heart raced in her chest. This was what she’d feared, what she’d wanted Blane for. But ten men, mayhap more? What could he do? She might well have lured him to his death. Fear made her muscles stiff. She fought to climb through the fog of indecision crowding her mind. What should they do?
Blane leaned in close. “Get everyone inside the keep,” he murmured. “I shall ride out to see if they’re headed in our direction.”
“Nay.” She gripped his hand. “’Tis too dangerous.”
“I’ll take Jamie and a few lads. They’re small but they’re fierce. I’ve little intention of taking a bunch of bairns into battle, though. We’ll return unharmed, I swear it.”
Ceana tried to swallow past the knot in her throat and failed. Her voice came out raspy when she ordered Bridget to go to the keep and sound the alarm.
“And get everyone into the castle,” she added. Blane squeezed her hand and a little strength returned. She turned to him. “I should never have asked ye to stay. I’ve put ye in danger.”
“And I should never have stayed,” he muttered. “They’d never have returned if I had—”
“Ye know these men?”
He released her hand and she sensed his hesitation. “Aye. I’d been tracking them when I stopped here.” His voice was hard like stone. “Damnation, I shouldnae have stopped but...”
“I begged ye,” she finished for him.
“Now I’ve put ye all in danger.” Regret hung heavy in his words. She felt the weight and how it pressed down upon him.
“Why were ye tracking them?”
“Ceana, I need to saddle up. Ye need to get behind the walls and see to yer people.”
“Blane, why?”
He swiped a hand through his hair, a quick slash of movement that she managed to follow. “I was away—much like yer men—fighting. I’d been gone for a long time. When I returned...” The words stuttered and fell. Ceana took a step forward and grasped his arm, feeling the tension there.
“When I returned,” he finally continued, “the village had been attacked. The few men were dead and naught was left of the place. Some of the women and children had run to shelter but those left behind were killed too. Not before being raped and who knows what else. A few survived to tell me their tale. These Sassenachs were hunting for treasures but when they found little, they took their revenge on my kin.”
A hand to her mouth, Ceana battled to find words. Tears burned her eyes and a noose of grief encircled her throat.
Blane heaved a sigh. “I was tracking them to kill them. To ensure they didnae do the same again. I shouldnae have been distracted from my cause. My kin died because I wasnae there that day...and now—” He ended the words on a harsh curse.
“’Twas nae yer fault. How could it be? Just as it isnae yer fault now. Ye think ye could have killed ten men on yer own?”
“I know I could.” Something dark and treacherous sat in his tone. It made her shudder. He moved away from her hand. “Get yer people to safety and I’ll ride out. If these men are headed our way, I willnae see yer people suffer too. But they are dangerous men—mercenaries. They fight for no cause but their own and that makes them far more dangerous than men merely fighting for their king.” Blane took her arm before she could turn away. “Whatever happens, dinnae step outside those walls.”
She nodded.
“Promise me,” he demanded.
“I promise,” she replied huskily. When he released her, she grasped her skirts and paused. “Oh Lord. Kate! She doesnae know.”
“I’ll get her. She’ll be safe. Ye’ll all be safe,” he vowed.
Ceana longed to fling herself forward and kiss him until he forgot the horrors he’d witnessed and the fear inside her dissolved, but something told her she could not kiss away his guilt. That was something Blane would have to conquer and it seemed he’d have the chance sooner or later. Battle was headed their way.
Chapter Eight
Wind whipped through his hair as Blane pushed his mount faster. The lads he’d brought with him were already making their way up the mountain path but he had other quarry to chase down first.
Kate.
He drew the horse to a stop in front of the dilapidated cottage and leapt down. Flinging the reins over a post, he strode over to the door and banged hard. The wood creaked and wavered and he feared for a moment the door would cave in. His heart thrashed in his chest, his palms were clammy.
Hell fire, he should never have stayed, should never have let Ceana get to him. But he had to fall for those wide blue eyes and tempting lips, did he not? He shouldn’t even still be here. Three days, he’d promised her but with no sign of this cousin’s arrival, how could he leave her?
At least that’s what he’d told himself. Blane snorted and smacked a hand against the door again. In truth, it had little to do with protecting the village and everything to do with sharing her bed. What man could resist a temptress in disguise? Who knew underneath those innocent eyes and that sweet, frail body was a woman who could lure a man to anything?
“Kate!” he bellowed.
The door finally opened and a lad, a little older than Kate, blinked up at him. The fair-haired man straightened his shoulders and flexed a hand around the sword at his hip. Though smaller than Blane, the lad was of fair size and fully grown. He understood why Ceana would be concerned about Kate spending time with him.
“Where’s Kate?”
Fraser’s brow furrowed. “She’s no’ here. She’s no’ been here for days.”
He hissed a breath through his teeth. “Damnation.”
“Is she in danger?”
Concern sat in the lad’s dark eyes. He couldn’t be sure what he intended with regards to Kate but it seemed Fraser cared for the fiery lass. And that could be useful.
“Englishmen have been spotted over the ridge. I’ve sent riders out to check on their position and see if they’re headed our way. If they are, danger is afoot. I know these men and they’ll want to take what they can while they’re here.”
“And ye think they’ll harm Kate?”
“Aye, and everyone here if they can.”
Fraser stepped out of the hut, forcing Blane back. “Give me yer mount, I’ll find her.”
He shook his head. “I’ve to catch up with the lads I sent out. I cannae have them alone out there.”
“The villagers need ye more, and I know where Kate will have gone.”
“And if ye come across the Sassenachs?”
“I’ll cut them down.” Fraser’s jaw remained tight, resolute. He recognised the glint in his eyes as one of a warrior, a man prepared to do anything for those he cared for. Mayhap the lad more than lusted after Kate. “I’ll cut them down,” he repeated, “and I’ll bring Kate to ye.”
Blane drew in a breath. His instinct was to tell him nay, to ride out after her himself. His mind told him otherwise. Ceana wouldn’t be happy about leaving Kate’s fate in the lad’s hands but he did know the lass better.
“Yer skilled with a blade?”
“Aye. I have to be. I cannae expect any aid from my clan, not now. Besides,” he released a grin, “’twill no’ be the first time I’ve run into trouble.”
Blane couldn’t help feel he was meeting a fellow soul here. The warrior in him recognised the warrior in Fraser. Bold, with no thought for their own safety. When he stepped into battle, fear for his life vanished.
&n
bsp; And that gave him cause for concern. “That’s my fear. Dinnae act brashly. ‘Tis no’ just yer life ye’ve to worry on.”
“Aye. I know. Ye can tell Ceana I’ll protect her sister with my life. I swear it upon my mother’s grave.”
Blane nodded. “Aye, that’ll about do it. Take the horse, but have care. Dalma’s a wild beast at times. Bring the lads back and find Kate. Then we may have need of yer swordarm.”
The lad smirked. “I think it more likely Ceana will leave me outside the castle walls to face my death.”
“She might want to but she’ll have little choice. We will need yer aid.”
He followed Fraser over to the horse and a sense of begrudging admiration for the man made him grin when he nimbly mounted his steed and settled into the saddle with no difficulty. Even Dalma didn’t protest the new rider. He could tell she understood who was in command here.
“Ye may have a chance to prove yerself today, Fraser. Dinnae fail.”
Fraser nodded and urged the horse into a gallop. Blane watched before uttering up a prayer to watch over the lad. He only hoped he was doing the right thing, putting his trust in him.
Without his horse, he had to sprint back to the keep. The village was already near empty with abandoned baskets and carts left in the middle of the mud. A bucket sat upon the well awaiting someone to carry it over to the animals. He noted most of the animals must have been locked up somewhere by the keep—likely at the rear of the castle. The English would be sorely disappointed when they came upon this barren village.
Blane only hoped the castle gate held and no one paid the price for their dissatisfaction.
The gate was still down while several women hastened about. Thick, stifled air greeted him in the castle. The village might only be small but so was the keep, and the women and children filled the hall. He pushed his way through, scanning the room in search of Ceana.
Where was she?
A baby wailed in his ear and he winced. Pushing forward again, he found her mother sat by the fire. “Aileen, ye’ll overheat here?”
She shook her head. “Nay, ‘tis the right temperature for me.”
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